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The Love Drunks – Mining Deeper in the Stooges’ Vein

Posted by April 17th, 2006 No Comments »

We love drinking, but not drunks.The Love Drunks
The Love Drunks
Bomp Records
By Christian Klepac

Every year, another crop of young lions comes to us channeling the Stooges and trying to pump some life into the comatose body of Rock. Most of these bands are known for sweaty, sexy, live shows, forgettable albums and life spans of two or three years. As the touring season starts to power up, let me draw your attention to the Love Drunks of Atlanta, GA, who are mining a deeper vein than most of their contemporaries.

The Love Drunks claim to sound “like what would happen if Jerry Lee Lewis played guitar” but they sound more like what would happen if the Riverboat Gamblers went rockabilly or the Hives finally found some soul. Singer Patrick A. has a firm grasp on that “wide eyed kid losing his innocence in the streets” thing that defined Iggy’s persona, but his vocal style sounds more like the second coming of the Jesus Lizard’s David Yow. His bellows and screeches make a fine brew mixed with the Drunks’ arrangements, which knock on punk’s door with the Memphis swagger of rim-shot snare and upright bass. It’s like a hillbilly hoedown where the chicken wings are laced with PCP.

We love drinking, but not drunks.The Love Drunks
The Love Drunks
Bomp Records
By Christian Klepac

Every year, another crop of young lions comes to us channeling the Stooges and trying to pump some life into the comatose body of Rock. Most of these bands are known for sweaty, sexy, live shows, forgettable albums and life spans of two or three years. As the touring season starts to power up, let me draw your attention to the Love Drunks of Atlanta, GA, who are mining a deeper vein than most of their contemporaries.

The Love Drunks claim to sound “like what would happen if Jerry Lee Lewis played guitar” but they sound more like what would happen if the Riverboat Gamblers went rockabilly or the Hives finally found some soul. Singer Patrick A. has a firm grasp on that “wide eyed kid losing his innocence in the streets” thing that defined Iggy’s persona, but his vocal style sounds more like the second coming of the Jesus Lizard’s David Yow. His bellows and screeches make a fine brew mixed with the Drunks’ arrangements, which knock on punk’s door with the Memphis swagger of rim-shot snare and upright bass. It’s like a hillbilly hoedown where the chicken wings are laced with PCP.

Most of the music doesn’t wander far from the supercharged greaser idiom, but the Drunks do try on some other approaches: “Blow” features a languorous sliding guitar line that perfectly captures the dregs of a night spent in excess, as Patrick mumbles about needing to get some sleep. The lyrics in general are about what you might expect, but this is one of those bands that makes songs about acid, street crime, and doin’ it in the butt seem somehow, I don’t know, “fey” and “charming.”

This self-titled album has a fine vintage sound and wants for nothing, but one wonders where these guys will go next. Maybe that’s the reason all these groups are so short-lived – being young, snotty and full of drugs might not be so attractive the third or fourth time around. Right now, however, it’ll do just fine. – (6.5/10)


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